“Good-bye, Pyotr. Serve faithfully the one you are sworn to serve; obey your commanders; don’t curry favor with them; don’t thrust yourself into service; don’t excuse yourself from service; and remember the proverb: ‘Look after your clothes when they’re new, and your honor when it’s young.’ ” Mother tearfully bade me to look after my health, and Savelyich to watch over her little one. They put a hareskin coat on me, and a fox fur over it. I got into the kibitka with Savelyich and set off, drowning myself in tears.
That same night I arrived in Simbirsk, where I was to spend a day buying necessary things, a task that had been entrusted to Savelyich. I put up at an inn. The next morning Savelyich headed off to the shops. Bored with looking out the window at the muddy alley, I went rambling about all the rooms. Going into the billiard room, I saw a tall gentleman of about thirty-five, with long black moustaches, in a dressing gown, with a cue in his hand and a pipe in his teeth. He was playing with the marker, who drank a glass of vodka when he won, and had to crawl on all fours under the table when he lost. I started watching their game. The longer it went on, the more frequent became the promenades on all fours, until the marker finally just stayed under the table. The gentleman pronounced several strong phrases over him by way of a funeral oration and offered to play a round with me. Not knowing how to play, I declined. That evidently seemed strange to him. He gave me a pitying look; nevertheless we got to talking. I learned that his name was Ivan Ivanovich Zurin, that he was a captain in the * * * hussar regiment, that he was in Simbirsk to take recruits and was staying at the inn. Zurin invited me to share a meal with him, soldier fashion, of whatever there was. I eagerly accepted. We sat down at the table. Zurin drank a lot and also treated me, saying that I needed to get used to the service; he told me army jokes that had me nearly rolling with laughter, and we got up from the table as fast friends. Here he volunteered to teach me to play billiards.
“That,” he said, “is necessary for a fellow serviceman. On campaign, for instance, you come to some little place—what are you going to do with yourself? You can’t beat Jews all the time. Willy-nilly you go to the inn and play billiards; and for that you have to know how to play!”
I was fully convinced and set about learning with great diligence. Zurin loudly cheered me on, marveled at my quick progress, and, after a few lessons, suggested that we play for money, only half-kopecks, not for gain, but just so as not to play for nothing, which was, as he put it, the nastiest of habits. I accepted that, too, and Zurin ordered punch and persuaded me to try it, repeating that I needed to get used to the service; and what was the service without punch! I obeyed him. Meanwhile our game went on. The more often I sipped from my glass, the more valiant I became. The balls kept flying over the cushion on me; I got excited, scolded the marker, who scored God knows how, increased my stakes time after time—in short, behaved like a boy broken free. Meanwhile the time passed imperceptibly. Zurin glanced at his watch, put down his cue, and announced that I had lost a hundred roubles. That threw me off a little. My money was with Savelyich. I started to apologize. Zurin interrupted me:
“For pity’s sake! Kindly don’t trouble yourself. I can wait, and meantime we’ll go to Arinushka’s.”
What was I to do? I ended the day in dissipation, just as I had begun it. We had supper at Arinushka’s. Zurin kept filling my glass, repeating that I had to get used to the service. When I got up from the table, I could barely keep my feet; at midnight Zurin took me back to the inn.
Savelyich met us on the porch. He gasped, seeing indisputable signs of my zeal for the service.
“What’s happened to you, master?” he asked in a rueful voice. “Where did you get so loaded? Ah, lordy me, you’ve never been in such a bad way!”
“Shut up, you old geezer!” I replied haltingly. “You must be drunk. Go to sleep…and put me to bed.”
The next day I woke up with a headache, vaguely recalling the events of the day before. My reflections were interrupted by Savelyich, who came in with a cup of tea.
“It’s too early, Pyotr Andreevich,” he said to me, shaking his head, “you’ve started carousing too early. Who are you taking after? It seems neither your father nor your grandfather was a drunkard, not to mention your mother: in all her born days she’s never touched anything but kvass. And whose fault is it all? That cursed moosieu. Time and again he’d go running to Antipyevna: ‘Madame, zhe voo pree, vodkyoo.’*2 There’s a zhe voo pree for you! No denying it: he taught you well, the son of a dog. And they just had to go and hire a heathen for a tutor, as if the master didn’t have people of his own!”
I was ashamed. I turned away and said: “Get out, Savelyich; I don’t want any tea.” But there was no stopping Savelyich once he started to sermonize.
“So you see, Pyotr Andreevich, where carousing gets you. Your little head is heavy, and you don’t want to eat. A drinking man is good for nothing…Have some pickling brine with honey, or best of all a half glass of liqueur for the hair of the dog. What do you say?”
Just then a boy came in and handed me a note from I. I. Zurin. I opened it and read the following lines:
My dear Pyotr Andreevich,
Please send me with my boy the hundred roubles you lost to me yesterday. I am in urgent need of money.
At your service,
Ivan Zurin
There was nothing to be done. I assumed an air of indifference and, turning to Savelyich, who was “the keeper of my money, of my linen and my affairs,”6 ordered him to give the boy a hundred roubles.
“What? Why?” asked the astonished Savelyich.
“I owe it to him,” I replied with all possible coolness.
“Owe it!” retorted Savelyich, whose astonishment was growing by the minute. “When was it, sir, that you managed to get into debt to him? Something’s not right here. Like it or not, sir, I won’t hand over the money.”
I thought that if in this decisive moment I did not argue down the stubborn old man, it would be hard for me to free myself from his tutelage later on, and, glancing haughtily at him, I said:
“I am your master, and you are my servant. The money is mine. I lost it gambling because I felt like it. I advise you not to be too clever and to do as you’re told.”
Savelyich was so shocked by my words that he clasped his hands and stood dumbstruck.
“What are you standing there for!” I shouted angrily.
Savelyich wept.
“Dearest Pyotr Andreevich,” he uttered in a trembling voice, “don’t make me die of grief. Light of my life! Listen to me, an old man: write to this robber that you were joking, that we don’t even have that kind of money. A hundred roubles! Merciful God! Tell him your parents strictly forbade you to gamble, except for nuts…”
“Enough babble,” I interrupted sternly. “Bring me the money or I’ll chuck you out.”
Savelyich looked at me with deep sorrow and went to fetch my debt. I pitied the poor old man; but I wanted to break free and prove that I was no longer a child. The money was delivered to Zurin. Savelyich hastened to take me away from the accursed inn. He appeared with the news that the horses were ready. With an uneasy conscience and silent remorse I drove out of Simbirsk without saying good-bye to my teacher or thinking I would ever see him again.
CHAPTER TWO The Guide
Land of mine, dear land of mine,
Land unknown to me!
Not on my own did I come to thee,
Nor was it my good steed that brought me.
What brought me, fine lad that I am,
Was youthful swiftness, youthful boldness,
And tavern drunkenness.
AN OLD SONG
My reflections on the way were not very pleasant. My loss, by the value back then, was not inconsiderable. Deep in my heart I knew that my behavior at the Simbirsk inn had been stupid, and I felt myself guilty before Savelyich. It all tormented me. The old man sat sullenly on the box, his back turned to me, and said nothing, but only groaned now and then. I certainly wanted to make peace with him, but did not know where to begin. Finally I said to him: